Contractually Bound
by GinnyW 31
Summary: She'd cost him everyone he'd ever loved. Surely a few months of  marriage wasn't too high a price for her to pay in compensation.  Collaboration with sshg316. Edward/Bella. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story is a collaboration between GinnyW 31 and Shug (sshg316), and was written for **curious88** who won it in the Fandom Gives Back auction last November. Yes, Gin & I both fail. We're so sorry that it took us so long! But we're getting to it now! The story is outlined and plotted out to be 11 chapters, but… we both have a habit of going over. We'll see what we can do here. Thanks to twitina for looking things over.

**Disclaimer:** The characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The rest is ours.

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**Contractually Bound: Chapter 1**

"Order up!"

Bella Swan wiped her brow with the sleeve of one arm, her face flushed with the heat of the kitchen. She smiled as the waitress approached the pass-through, a new ticket in hand.

"Hope you have enough food back there, Bella," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "Emmett McCarty just ordered half the menu."

"I heard that!" came the boisterous reply from the diner's corner booth, loud enough to carry over the normal chatter.

Jessica handed the ticket to Bella before loading the waiting order onto her tray. "I swear, he should give _you_ the tip, ordering that much food."

"I heard that, too!"

"Oh, shut up!" Jessica called back with a grin, her ponytail whipping over her shoulder as she walked off to serve table two.

Bella chuckled as she began to prepare the next order, then laughed again when she noticed that Jessica hadn't been overly exaggerating. Emmett had ordered enough food for five people.

She got to work, shifting her stance in hopes of relieving her aching feet. It had been a long day, and after the dinner rush, she could go home. A nice hot bath sounded good right about then.

Humming to the radio while she cooked, she smiled as she glanced out at the busy dining area, filled with people she'd known most of her life. There had been a time when she'd thought she couldn't get out of the tiny town of Forks fast enough. She'd had dreams and goals, she mused as she cracked an egg into a bowl. Yet here she was, still in the same place, doing the same job she had in high school.

She beat the egg with a fork and sighed. For too many years now she'd been letting life pass her by, but that was about to end. She was going to do something with her life—something she should have done years ago.

A shout of laughter came from the dining area, and Bella glanced through the pass-through to see Jessica once again teasing Emmett, his wife Rosalie adding her two cents worth, as well.

Bella shook her head and chuckled as she hit the bell and shouted, "Order up!" It might not have been her life's ambition to work in a small town diner, but at least it was usually entertaining.

Bella called out a goodbye before leaving for the evening. The door clanged shut as she stretched, then wearily climbed the steps behind the building to her apartment above the diner. She was worn out by the long shift and couldn't wait to change out of her greasy clothes, take a long, hot shower, and then lounge around in her comfy pajamas for the rest of the night.

~o0o~

She entered her apartment, tossing her keys on to the pressboard bookshelf. The place was small, but it suited her needs. The tiny living area didn't get much light, thanks to the small windows, but she wasn't often home during the day, so it was okay. The only furniture was the sofa she'd picked up at Good Will, the bookshelf, and, shoved into one corner, a small table with two chairs that she used as a dining area. There was a narrow galley kitchen, a small three-quarters bathroom, and that was about it. No bedroom—the sofa was a pull-out. It wasn't much, but it was clean… if one could overlook the thin veil of grease that seemed to linger no matter how much she scrubbed, the result of living over a diner.

Bella sighed. All right, so the apartment was dark and dingy, but when she'd moved out of Charlie's, determined to stand on her own two feet, it had been all she could afford. Maybe, if her financial aid came through, she could get a better place in the fall. At her age, she'd prefer an apartment to the dorms, but then, even a dorm room would be better than her current place.

Excitement skittered down her spine as she thought of what the coming months held for her. It had taken her so long to work up the courage to send off her application to the University of Washington. It was a public state school, so there really hadn't been a concern that she wouldn't get in, but she'd still been a wreck. It had been a daily struggle not to think about the last time she'd waited to hear from an admissions office, but she'd managed to set aside the painful memories. Finally, after weeks of nervous anticipation, the letter granting her acceptance to U-Dub had arrived the previous afternoon.

Her life was about to change. And for once, it would be for the better.

Maybe, she thought as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, just maybe she could get her life back on track. She'd made some terrible mistakes—her heart still squeezed at the thought of her biggest regret—but that was all in the past. She would never forget, but she could overcome. It was time she moved on and gave herself a chance at a new life.

She set down the bottle of water on the counter and took two steps toward the bathroom when there was a knock at the door.

Bella frowned, wondering who would be stopping by her apartment—no one ever had before. Well, except for Charlie, and he was working. She hesitated as the knock sounded again, now more persistent, but then went to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked. Her dad was a cop—there was no way she was opening that door without knowing who was on the other side, even in Forks.

There was a pause, and then she froze as a voice she'd never thought she'd hear again drifted through the door.

"It's Edward. Edward Cullen."

~o0o~

He'd been sitting in the side parking lot of the diner for nearly two hours, catching stares from more than one patron as he anxiously tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He had a perfect view from where he sat, he could see several of the tables, the long bar from where he was parked. Most importantly, however, was the fact that he could see the small woman who was standing in the kitchen, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a navy blue apron and armed with a spatula. More than once he contemplated going inside the small restaurant, but this wasn't a social call; there was nothing pleasant about the meeting he had planned. Edward hadn't asked anyone outright where he could find Bella or what she was doing, but in the time since he'd moved back to the West Coast just over a month ago, he'd quietly listened when Renee had flown in just over three weeks ago to visit with Esme and had given updates on Bella.

Edward had been both shocked and angry when he'd discovered that Bella was working as a short order cook at the diner in Forks. She'd had the opportunity to do something with herself, and instead she was wasting her life and her potential in this godforsaken town. Yes, he'd been angry when he heard about it, but now, sitting in his car as he watched her in the kitchen, serving up greasy food and laughing while she spoke with those around her, he became furious.

She had absolutely no right to be happy.

Shortly after seven, the light in the back of the restaurant turned on, and he watched as the backdoor opened. She'd removed her apron and was simply dressed in a red t-shirt and jeans. Edward's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel when he noticed a thin sliver of skin that became visible—even from his vantage point—as she took a lifted her arms above her head, arched her back, and stretched.

It took several minutes for him to calm himself enough before he exited his car. He let his annoyance and anger lead him, clutching onto both as if they were his only lifeline, as he walked up the steps she'd just trudged.

Standing outside the dark wood door, he glanced one last time at the papers clutched tightly in his left hand. He should've carried them in a briefcase. Edward Cullen always used a briefcase; it gave him power. Image was everything in his world, and he knew that the simple sound of the clicks as he first opened and would later close his briefcase would have intimidated far more than the words he'd rehearsed in his head hundreds of times over the last few days.

_Click, click._

His hand squeezed even tighter around the documents, crumpling them slightly, as he considered his own stupidity for allowing himself to become so caught up in his feelings that he'd failed to separate his professional mind from the typically repressed emotional one. He'd hoped that he would be able to control himself around her. It had been eight years, and apparently she still had a hold on him that rivaled no other. It seemed that when dealing with Bella Swan he still had a habit of losing his senses and doing stupid things. The small piece of metal residing in his pocket had always been his proof of that.

God, he hated her.

Just that single thought alone fueled the anger that had slowly been ebbing away as he'd stood outside her door. He couldn't afford to allow anything to interfere in his mission.

With one more breath and a newly firmed resolve, Edward raised his hand and knocked on her door.

~o0o~

He paced back and forth across the small living room floor, four steps from the coffee table to the bookcase and back again. He alternated between running his hands through his hair and pinching the bridge of his nose, both clear signs of irritation and frustration. Standing in the middle of her living room after so many years had passed was truly the last thing he wanted to be doing. Until a month ago, it was the last thing he'd ever expected to be doing. He hadn't wanted to see her again. He hadn't wanted to return to Forks. And he sure as hell hadn't wanted to be presenting her with this proposition.

Well, at least he was framing it as a proposition. Although he wouldn't have been surprised if she referred to it as coercion and manipulation. Edward Cullen knew exactly what he was doing.

The rustle of paper drew his attention back to the woman sitting at the kitchen table. An elbow on the table, her hand on her forehead, she pored over the pages in an effort to try to understand all of the legalities… all of his demands. It was obvious to Edward that she was worried he was trying to take advantage of her.

"You have got to be joking," Bella said as she flipped another page of the contract, shaking her head as she continued to read.

"Which part?" he asked, stepping over to the table. He placed his palms on the wood surface before quickly removing them and wiping them off, grimacing the entire time.

She flicked a glance in his direction. "All of it," she said, her tone incredulous. "You don't honestly think that anyone will believe this."

Edward eyed her levelly. "Why not? We all believed you before—or have you forgotten?"

He took great pleasure in the look of shock that crossed her features, but all too soon she regained her composure and moved her eyes back to the document in her hands, saying nothing.

Stepping back from the table, Edward renewed his pacing. This time, however, his eyes took in the postage stamp-sized apartment. The living area had about the same square footage as his first college dorm room. There were two small windows, each about the size of a pizza box, with heavy drapes blocking out most of the light. The once white ceiling had several large yellow stains where water had obviously leaked down from the roof, and though clean, the entire place smelled and even felt like grease from the diner just below. She should be thanking him for taking her out of this hell hole. Then again, he thought as he noted her ragged appearance, she looked as hellish as her apartment.

For just the briefest moment, he began to wonder what had happened to her. This was not the same girl he'd known all those years ago. The Bella he'd known never would have done this to herself. She would have never wasted her life by hiding out in the same small town she'd sworn she hated as she was growing up. She wouldn't have dropped out of college—community college at that—to work at a diner. Hell, the Bella he'd known had dreams of attending university, of marriage and children and...

Edward looked around the small, desolate, depressing room again and shuddered—she'd had dreams. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Edward reminded himself he didn't care.

More rustling from the direction of the table and he turned his attention back to _her_. He watched as she grabbed the well-chewed pen that had been sitting on the table and signed her name in that horribly messy script that he'd loved to tease her about when they were growing up.

She'd signed it.

Satisfaction coursed through him, and he breathed a sigh of relief before taking the few steps, leaning over, and swiping the contract into his hands. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the final, most important part of his plan. Edward couldn't even bring himself to look at it again.

The ring made a quiet ding as it hit the table and bounced slightly in front of her.

She eyed the offensive piece of jewelry warily, completely unaware of the true symbolism behind it. He sneered as Bella couldn't even bring herself to pick it up to examine it more closely. Edward was well aware that having a ring practically thrown at her with complete disregard for her thoughts or feelings wasn't the average girl's romantic fantasy, but hadn't he always told her time and time again that she was anything but average? The sentiment sickened him now, but served to convince him that she was getting nothing less than she deserved

"What do we tell them?" she asked quietly.

"In two weeks' time, I'll take you on a quiet picnic lunch and tell you how, now that we've reconnected, I could never let you go." Edward found he had to swallow down bile as he spouted off his carefully planned lie.

"Why are you giving this to me now?"

He leaned forward, his hands again resting on the sticky table, but he tried to ignore it. This was important, and he wanted to make certain that he was very clear. He waited until Bella raised her eyes from the small gold band to meet his gaze before he spoke. "Because I don't want to confuse the lines, Bella. This is an arrangement—a contract—nothing more. This is a small town and we will have to be seen in public for this to be believable, not to mention family dinners and so on, but I want to make it clear—" he leaned even closer to her and brought up his right hand to grip her chin "—you mean absolutely nothing to me."

Dropping his hand and standing back up, he walked to the door. With his head down, he reached out to turn the knob and said, "I will be here Sunday at three to take you to the house."

He didn't wait for an answer before he yanked the door open and then slammed it shut behind him. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

~o0o~

Bella remained at the kitchen table for hours, the ring sitting in front of her, as if it would burn if she dared to touch it. She'd been completely unprepared to see him again, had hoped she never would. Now he was back, just as she had begun to take control of her life, and he was going to ruin everything. The optimism she'd felt earlier in the evening was now gone, leaving her feeling more desolate than she ever had before. Of all the times for him to reenter her life, he had to pick _now_….

Ruthlessly, she shoved her selfish thoughts aside, remembering that there were more important things to consider than how her life would be affected. It didn't matter—_she_ didn't matter. She'd only agreed to Edward's plan for one reason, and one reason only: Esme. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the woman who had once been like a second mother, but she refused to allow them to fall. She did not deserve the release crying would bring.

She'd brought all of this on herself. He'd been so angry, so hard. So different from the boy she'd once known. The guilt that had gnawed at her for eight years returned with a vengeance. Meeting his demands—especially given the circumstances—was the least that she could do. And maybe, just maybe, she could somehow make amends for all the pain she'd caused.

With aching slowness, she reached for the ring, her hand only moving a few centimeters at a time. Carefully grasping it with trembling fingers, she admired the diamond solitaire with a detached eye. The stone was a single cushioned cut diamond; if she had to guess, she'd say it was no more than half a carat. Not overly large, but big enough that it could be easily seen. The band was white gold with a delicate vine pattern etched all the way around. She ran her fingers along the circumference, her mouth slightly curving into a small smile at the fine detail. Her breath caught, however, as her thumb slipped through the band and she felt what could only be engraving on the inside. She swallowed hard, and her hands shook as she tilted the ring to look inside.

_Forever & Always_.

The dam holding back her emotions finally burst, and the magnitude of what she had done washed over her. This time, she was unable to hold back the tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**This story is a collaboration between GinnyW 31 and Shug (sshg316), and was written for **curious88** who won it in the Fandom Gives Back auction last November. Thanks to twitina for looking things over.

**Disclaimer:** The characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The rest is ours.

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**Contractually Bound: Chapter 2**

Bella sat at her small dining table, reading over the housing forms for U-Dub while waiting for Edward. Her mind, however, was whirling with the ramifications of the so-called contract she'd signed. From what she could recall, it had stated six months or…. Damn it. She couldn't remember the exact wording. She would have to ask Edward for a copy of that contract. For now, she would just go by the six months, which meant the fall semester would have already started by the time their "marriage" ended.

The pen in her hand hovered over the housing forms. She would be living with Edward until October—she shuddered at the thought—so she wasn't sure if student housing was her best option. She could commute for the first month or so, and then when everything ended—she refused to think about what _that_meant—she could move into a small studio near campus. On the other hand, she wasn't sure her old truck would be able to make that kind of commute for a month. She could always block her classes to only two or three days a week, maybe find somewhere cheap to stay for those few days... or maybe there were some on-line or distance learning options, so she'd only have to show up on campus a few times during the semester; she would only be taking introductory courses to begin with, anyway. Then there was her financial aid to consider. She didn't know if she would still be eligible for the grants and loans she'd received, given that her income was about take a giant leap upward. But the divorce would cancel that out, albeit not in time for the fall semester. From what she was able to work out, there was a strong possibility she would have to sit out the first semester and start in the spring instead—maybe.

After several minutes of useless suppositions, she realized she had no idea what to do. Everything was such a mess. This marriage thing was going to throw a wrench into all her plans. Of course, even though she'd signed the contract, it wasn't truly binding—not yet. There was still time to back out if she changed her mind. Maybe—maybe her mother and Edward had been exaggerating and things weren't as dire as they believed. She could hope, anyway. For both Esme_and_ herself.

Shaking her head, Bella decided the best course of action was to talk to someone in the admissions office. Knowing there was no time for that at the moment, she tossed the papers onto the table where they joined the fall semester's course catalog. Bella glanced at the clock, despite already knowing that Edward was about to arrive.

Her fingers twisted together in her lap, then toyed with the skirt of the dress she'd chosen to wear. Usually she stuck to jeans and t-shirts, but a dress had seemed more appropriate for the day's events. The knot of guilt in her stomach tightened, and she took a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves and praying that she was better prepared to see him than she had been earlier in the week—that she was prepared to see his parents. To see Esme.

Filled with nervous energy, she stood and paced the small apartment. Somehow, she ended up in front of the bookshelf, her fingers reaching for her two prized first editions—_Pride and Prejudice_ and _Wuthering Heights_. She hadn't touched either book since she'd placed them on the shelf when she moved in, hadn't opened the covers for years. Too painful, too many memories. She slid the Austen a little to the left, her heart pounding as she removed the photograph carefully hidden between the two books.

The Cullen family smiled up at her, eighteen-year-old Edward in his canary yellow graduation robes, his arm flung around seventeen-year-old Bella's shoulders, tucking her close to his side. Esme, Carlisle, and Alice were gathered around them, Alice clinging to her big brother's free hand. She brushed her fingers over the picture, almost hoping she could catch the love, happiness, and optimism she could see encompassing all of them and hold on to it.

As she studied the photo, Bella tilted her head to one side and wondered how it had all gone so wrong. The day the picture had been taken, she would have never dreamed things would have turned out like this. Her eyes were drawn to Esme. Never this.

Swallowing the pain, she turned her attention to Edward's smiling face, his expression bright with excitement at all of life's possibilities and his eyes filled with love for his family… for her.

But now, instead of the loving, considerate boy she'd known, Edward was hard and bitter and angry. Vengeful, even.

She hadn't expected that. Somewhere along the line Bella had convinced herself that their breakup had left him completely unscathed, that he would have moved on and forgotten all about the small town girl he'd left behind.

The sound of a car horn interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly tucked the photo back between the two books. Crossing the room to peek out the small window, she noted the shiny, new Volvo parked in the diner's back lot. The car was not one she was familiar with, but even so, she knew it was Edward.

"_You could have just honked the horn," Bella groused, rolling her eyes as Edward led her to the car, his umbrella sheltering her from the pouring rain, his arm preventing her from slipping. "Then we wouldn't have had to deal with my dad." She shuddered, remembering the inquisition they'd just been put through._

"_My mother raised me to be a gentleman," he replied, grinning at her crookedly as he opened her car door, sending her heart rate soaring. "I love you, Bella. I would never disrespect you like that."_

Still looking out at the car waiting in the lot, Bella sighed, then nodded. Edward was making a statement—and she'd heard it, loud and clear.

With a grim smile, she grabbed her umbrella. If Edward Cullen thought he was going to walk all over her, he had another thing coming.

~o0o~

Edward didn't bother going up to her door; he simply pulled into one of the two parking spaces behind the diner that were reserved for the small apartment and honked his horn. Within a few minutes, Bella was walking down the steep steps, gripping an umbrella in her right hand while her left clutched the railing. He noticed twice that she started to lose her balance but quickly righted herself, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. What he'd once found to be an endearing quirk in her personality, he now hated. Her clumsiness was simply a sign of carelessness, and if Bella paid more attention to her surroundings then she wouldn't have so many accidents.

While he sat warm and dry in the car, she narrowly avoided mud puddles and ran to try to stay out of the rain on her way to reach him. Edward cringed when she closed her umbrella and put the wet thing on the floor of his new car, but he held his tongue, grateful that she'd at least used it instead of entering the vehicle in the same condition as a drowned rat.

As he drove, the air was thick with tension. The only sound to be heard was the pounding of the large raindrops on the roof and the whooshing of the windshield wipers. Edward saw no point in attempting to mask it with music. Instead he allowed the silence to grow, the tension to fester until Bella was noticeably fidgeting. First, she was simply grabbing her hands and then alternating between squeezing her fingers and wringing her hands. Next, he watched as she rotated a shoulder, shifted in her seat, and finally began tapping her foot in an erratic rhythm.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Just say it," he said bitterly.

"I haven't seen her."

Bella's words were so soft, so full of shame, that Edward could barely hear her. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and continued to try to make out the road through the pouring rain.

"I don't see how that's my problem."

Bella let out a breath. "Mom said she's really frail."

Edward could only nod his head sharply in response; he didn't like to think about Esme's physical well-being... her physical health was already a hopeless cause. Right now his focus remained solely on how his mother was doing emotionally, which meant ensuring her happiness. That was all any of them could worry about anymore. Even so, he also knew that some small part of him hoped that if he could make her happy enough, make up for staying away for so long, then maybe God would grant them all a miracle.

He turned the car onto the nearly hidden gravel road and noted that Bella's breathing increased as they got closer to the house. "It's your own fault you haven't seen her, you know," he told her.

Bella's refused to turn her head to look at him, and after several long moments, as they traveled down the private drive, he heard her say, "I know."

The satisfaction he'd expected to feel at her words never came, causing Edward's irritation with her to grow. Annoyed, he muttered curse words under his breath as his parents' house came into view. As he pulled the car into the driveway, he shut off the engine and turned his attention to the woman sitting beside him.

When he didn't move to exit the car, she turned her head and they made eye contact for the first time that day. Edward tried to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he felt he had to tell her how to behave; on the other, he knew that wouldn't be necessary. He was having a great deal of difficulty reconciling this Bella with the girl he'd grown up with and the one he'd admittedly built up in his head. He took a breath and opened his mouth to say something, and then snapped it closed just as quickly.

Bella looked at him curiously, but Edward shook his head. "Never mind."

A beat later, he opened his car door and ran quickly through the rain up to the covered porch. It took Bella another few moments before she got out of the car. Edward didn't have to be a genius to know that she'd been waiting for him to open the door for her. He scoffed at the very idea and watched through narrowed eyes as she ran up the slippery steps, barely keeping herself upright, to join him.

It was as she was standing beside him that he finally took a good look at her. Unlike the other day when he'd shown up at her apartment, Bella had put some effort into her appearance. When he'd left that evening, he'd been tempted to tell her to take a shower before coming over to see his family, but he hadn't wanted her to think he cared one iota about how she looked. Because he most certainly did not. Therefore, when she arched an eyebrow at his appraisal, he found himself telling her, "I hope you don't think dressing up will impress me," in his most sarcastic voice.

Bella looked down at her dress and tugged on the already stretched out cardigan she'd worn in lieu of a jacket, before looking back up at Edward. "Don't flatter yourself. I just wanted to look nice for Esme."

For some reason that Edward couldn't even fathom, his anger flared, and he didn't know if it was because of her snappy reply or because her clothes looked as if she'd bought them at the local thrift shop. He found himself clenching his fists several times at his sides before he let out an exasperated breath and turned to the door. He didn't bother knocking as he opened the front door and then, remembering that their performance now mattered, he waved his hand forward, inviting Bella inside like a gentleman—just as he'd been taught. As she walked past him, he quietly ordered her to smile and then followed her through the door.

Obviously phony grins were plastered on both their faces.

~o0o~

Bella stood awkwardly in the foyer of the house she remembered playing in as a child, feeling oddly out of place and significantly under-dressed. She smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her dress. It had been the nicest thing in her closet. She wasn't sure why Edward seemed so upset about it, but then again, he seemed to be upset by anything and everything to do with her. Perhaps she should simply resign herself to that fact and ignore it.

She sighed and tried to put all of that behind her; it was time to focus on the reason they were there. It had been years since she'd been in the house, and she was surprised by how much of an outsider she felt like in such familiar surroundings. Six years ago, Carlisle and Esme had moved to Seattle for work, but they'd kept the house in Forks as a summer retreat. Bella's mother had mentioned in passing that the Cullens jokingly referred to it as their "weekend cabin."

Edward led her into the living room, and Bella's fake smile quickly turned genuine.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so happy to see you," Esme said as she slowly stood from her chair and walked over, immediately engulfing the younger woman in her arms.

Relishing the embrace of the woman whom she'd always thought of as a second mother, Bella found she had to fight to hold in her sobs. The guilt at having stayed away for so long was tangible, and she was certain that Esme could feel it, as well. Her thoughts were confirmed when Esme whispered in her ear, "It's okay, sweetheart. I forgive you. It will all be okay now."

For a moment, Bella allowed herself to believe her and took solace in Esme's arms, but a small voice in the back of her head reminded her that it was all decidedly backward. Esme was the one who needed support and comfort, and Bella needed to quit being so selfish.

Esme squeezed Bella a bit tighter before releasing her grasp, and Bella noted how thin she felt. Esme Cullen had always been a slender, petite woman, but she was nothing more than skin and bones now. Bella studied her face. To the casual observer, Esme might have looked to be nothing more than a bit tired, but there was something decidedly off about her, even aside from the hollowed cheeks, the pallor of her skin, and the chapped lips. Her hair had always been a beautiful caramel color and full of body, with not a single hair ever out of place. Today, it was straight and lifeless, with far more gray than the light golden brown Bella remembered. However the most troubling change was found in Esme's eyes. She'd always loved Esme's eyes. They'd always been vibrant and expressive, the same color as her son's; now they just appeared dull, sad, and laced with exhaustion.

As if knowing what Bella was thinking, Esme said, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me today."

It was a clear warning that it was not the time to discuss her health and they would leave it for another day.

"I missed you."

Reaching up and patting her cheek, Esme said, "I missed you, too, sweetheart."

Ever the gracious hostess, Esme ushered her son and Bella to the living room where they could chat comfortably, informing them that Carlisle, though excited to see Bella, was busy in the kitchen finishing up the preparations for dinner. The pair sat together on the sofa, just close enough to make it appear as if they were not avoiding one another. Esme eased herself into a plush chair with an ottoman, and Edward immediately jumped back up to cover her legs with a heavy afghan as she rested her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. Then he joined Bella on the couch once again.

"So, Bella, Edward hasn't yet told me how the two of you reconnected," Esme said after she'd caught her breath and composed herself.

After looking over to Edward with a silent plea for help and finding nothing but thinly veiled scorn, she flashed Esme the most sincere smile she could muster and began weaving the tale that Edward had briefly mentioned when he'd arrived at her apartment a few days before.

She could feel Edward's eyes on her as she laid out the story they'd discussed, ready to jump in and provide additional details if necessary. Her voice was a bit shaky and her hands were clenched together in her lap, but despite her nerves, she was going to stick to the plan. Not that she had any choice. To do otherwise would hurt Esme, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Esme's face lit up as Bella explained how they had run into each other at the diner when he'd first joined his family in Forks. A hint of sparkle returned to Esme's eyes as Bella babbled on about how they'd been spending time together ever since and how happy she was to have Edward in her life again.

That sparkle was worth every painful, detestable moment she had to spend sitting next to Edward Cullen.

He laid his hands atop hers and squeezed lightly, and one glance at his face told her that he thought she was laying it on a bit thick. "We're lucky to have found each other again," he said, effectively cutting off any more of her rambling explanations.

Bella fought back a growl; he knew she was terrible at lying. If he wanted to be certain that everything went off without a hitch, he should've been the one doing all of the talking. Then again, knowing Esme as she did, it was likely that Edward had already received the third degree from his mother before Bella had arrived. Bella bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at her so-called boyfriend; Edward should have spent their time in the car prepping her on the correct answers rather than merely glowering at her.

"Dinner!" Carlisle called from the kitchen.

Edward and Bella rose from the couch, and she stood off to the side as Edward quickly moved to help his mother. Esme leaned against him as he helped her to her feet. Bella noticed how his face pinched slightly when Esme was in his arms, and she imagined it was because his stomach twisted just as much as hers at Esme's too light frame. She smothered a laugh when Esme smacked at Edward's hand, however, as he tried to take her arm and walk with her to the dining room. Esme Cullen had always been independent, and not even her fragile state was going to change that.

"It makes me so happy to know that you're happy," Esme said softly to them both as she walked between Edward and Bella. "It's about time that you finally set your hurt and anger aside so the two of you could talk things through. I know that you've both been miserable these last few years, but I knew that you two belonged together and that you'd find each other again. I've always felt that the heartache we suffer through in life makes the joy and love that much sweeter. Wouldn't you agree, Edward?"

At his mother's words, the toe of Edward's shoe caught the corner of the coffee table and he briefly stumbled before catching himself.

"Of course, Mother," he managed as soon as he caught his balance.

Biting her lip to hide her amusement, Bella accompanied them into the dining room to greet the rest of the family for their meal.

~o0o~

Three hours later, with dinner eaten, dishes done, and stomachs recently filled with coffee and cake, Edward and Bella finally left. Carlisle and Esme stood on the porch, his arms wrapped protectively around his frail wife, as Edward escorted Bella out to the car. This time Edward politely opened her door for her, a show for his parents, she knew.

The quiet in the car was instantly stifling, but Bella held her tongue until Edward had the car traveling down the narrow gravel road before asking, "How long?"

"Until what?"

She kept her eyes down and picked at the imaginary lint on her skirt. "How long does she have?"

"I thought your mother would've told you."

Without even bothering to look at him, she knew he was glaring at her by the way he spoke the words. Choosing to ignore his obvious annoyance, she pressed, "I was afraid to ask, and I didn't really want to harass her for the information. Mom's pretty upset."

"_We_ all are," he replied in a tone that clearly indicated that Bella was obviously not one of the "we" who cared about Esme.

Edward's statement hung in the air, and it wasn't until he turned the car out onto the highway that he turned his head and looked at Bella. With what almost sounded like a sigh of resignation he said, "Less than six months. Though Dad said that after her last set of labs, he thinks we'll be lucky to get four."

Four months. Bella's stomach twisted, and her heart felt as if Edward was crushing it between his hands. Part of her had refused to believe that Esme could be so ill, but now, having seen her, she could no longer fool herself. Bella put her elbow up on the car door, and chewed on her fingernail as she stared out the window. She was slowly finding her resolve as she digested his words. Since she'd first heard her mother utter the words "pancreatic cancer" less than two months earlier, she'd known that the outcome wouldn't be good. But she'd avoided asking about things like what stage the cancer was in or what the prognosis was. The truth of Edward's answer was in everything—from the slow, careful way Esme moved to the way she simply pushed her food around her plate and barely ate to her labored breaths when her pain escalated.

Now that she knew, she wished she could take that information and hide it away again behind lock and key. Ignorance was indeed bliss.

"You're sure they can't do anything?"

The car swerved, and as Bella snapped her head to look at Edward in panic. "What the hell, Edward?"

"How can you even ask that?" he shouted, bringing the car to a skidding stop on the side of the road and then turning his full attention to her.

"Do you blame me for asking? Surely you asked the very same question. At least the Edward Cullen I knew would have. _He_ never took things at face value. _He_never took a simple answer and sat back to await an outcome." She squeezed her eyes shut to fight off the tears that were attempting to fall and turned her head to rest back against her window. "Obviously you've changed much more than I'd originally thought."

"You know absolutely nothing about me," she heard him say. Then a moment later, she felt the car pull back onto the highway. She didn't open her eyes again until she felt him turn and she saw that they were only a couple of blocks from the diner. Bella thought again about the course catalog and housing information that was sitting on the table in her apartment, but even as her mind shifted in that direction, it immediately changed course, leaving her thoughts completely consumed with Esme.

"Edward, there was something in your contract about the duration…." She let her words trail off, inviting him to fill in the blanks for her. There had been a condition of sorts, but she'd not truly given it much thought beyond the "six months" part.

"Six months or two months after Mom's funeral, whichever is longer," he said, this time his voice devoid of any emotion as he turned the car into the parking lot of the diner.

It sounded as if they would only be married for six months, as she'd originally thought. It was a small fact that would have made her happy just a few hours earlier, but for the first time since signing his contract, Bella realized the full implication of the marriage's time limit. She'd known on some level, of course, but it was only now, as she considered the two events together that she fully accepted just how intertwined they were—her marriage and Esme's health.

It would be Esme's death that would set the wheels for her divorce into motion. Like the falling of the first domino or a gun signaling the start of a race.

The vision of Esme's smiling face just after she hugged both Bella and Edward when they had left less than twenty minutes ago danced before her eyes.

_Less than six months._

Bella's stomach began to churn, and her heart felt infinitely heavier at the thought.

A moment later, Edward pulled the car into a parking space, and Bella leaned down, grabbed her umbrella from the floorboards, and willed herself to keep her tears at bay for the final minutes she would be in Edward's presence. "Thanks for—" she began, but instantly stopped when she saw his narrowed gaze. Bella gave an annoyed huff and opened the car door. "Just let me know if I need to know anything else about your brilliant plan."

"You'll be seeing me plenty."

Bella glanced at him and nodded, the lead weight in her stomach inhibiting her from coming up with a witty reply. "Okay."

Then, without another word, she shut the passenger door a bit harder than she probably should have and ran up the steps to her apartment, not even bothering to open the umbrella this time. She no longer had anyone to impress. Without a moment's hesitation, Bella walked directly to her dining table, collected the papers she had strewn across it, and promptly tossed them all in the garbage can.

Decision made. She wasn't going to back out now.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This story is a collaboration between GinnyW 31 and Shug (sshg316), and was written for **curious88** who won it in the Fandom Gives Back auction last November. Sorry for the ridiculously long delay—more info on that at the end of the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** The characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The rest is ours.

* * *

**Contractually Bound: Chapter 3**

The car's tires squealed against the pavement as Edward sped out of his parents' private drive and headed toward the highway leading to Port Angeles. According to his father, Bella and Esme had taken Carlisle's car to the small portside town to search for a wedding dress—something Bella had conveniently forgotten to tell him. It was a clear violation of the terms of their contract. Not that he should have expected any differently from someone who had previously shown no qualms about breaking her word.

His mouth pressed into a grim line as he increased his speed, flying past the few other cars on the highway. He reached up to loosen his tie, then remembered he wasn't wearing one and instead ran a weary hand across his face before once again grasping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.

The past few weeks had gone precisely according to plan, thanks to his tight-fisted control. With no work to distract him—thank goodness for all that family leave he'd saved up—he had been able to concentrate solely on Esme… and getting her to believe in the fairy tale he'd created. It had worked. Several well-timed public dates and then the "proposal"— his pre-fabricated story conveyed at Sunday dinner with his parents and Charlie—had gone off without hitch, despite the bile that had risen to his throat with every despicable word. He had to admit, until today's little act of rebellion, Bella had played her role to perfection, and his mother… his mother was the happiest he'd ever seen.

Now he only had to make sure she stayed that way.

It was a jagged pill to swallow, allowing Bella and his mother to reconnect, despite that being an unavoidable consequence of the charade that had become his life. This Bella wasn't the same girl he'd once known—if he'd ever truly known her at all—and so he could not fully anticipate her responses, leaving him once again grappling for control. It was damn annoying. Inconvenient, too. He couldn't afford any mistakes, couldn't allow his mother to be hurt by Bella's fickleness again.

Edward ignored the small voice inside his head that questioned if he was worried more about Esme or himself.

His lips twisted in contempt as he stepped harder on the gas and passed a slower-moving car. Sometimes he wished he hadn't eavesdropped on the conversation between Esme and Renee, that he'd never heard his mother say that her one regret was that she wouldn't live long enough to see him and Bella reconcile. The sadness in her voice had been audible—only an idiot could have missed it. There was no way in hell that Edward would allow his mother a single moment of unhappiness in her final days—not when it was within his power to change things.

So that was what he'd done. To hell with the mess it made of his life, as long as his mother was happy. Now she _was_ happy.

And God help Bella Swan if she did anything to put that happiness in jeopardy.

He arrived in Port Angeles in record time and quickly found his father's car in front of a small wedding boutique. He parked in the space behind the black Mercedes, then shoved a few quarters into the meter before entering the shop.

The bell over the door announced his arrival, and he paused in the entry, immediately ill at ease. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Years of steadfastly ignoring anything to do with weddings or relationships, and now here he was, of his own accord, completely surrounded by wedding paraphernalia… some of which was destined to be part of _his_ wedding.

His wedding to Bella.

The only woman he'd ever loved.

The woman who had utterly decimated his very soul.

Shit.

His chest felt as if someone were sitting on it, and his breathing became labored. Damn it. What the hell was he doing here? He had to get out, had to leave—

Then his panicked gaze met that of his mother's, and the tightness in his chest loosened, even as a fist gripped his heart. For her. It was all for her.

With that reminder, Edward took a deep breath and fully entered the shop, taking note of Esme's narrowed eyes and pinched lips.

On any other occasion, the look on his mother's face would have been comical. Today, however, with worries of Bella's intentions on his mind, the only amusement Edward allowed was a small twitch of his mouth.

Esme was pissed.

Edward gave a small wave and shrugged his shoulders, attempting to look contrite, then maneuvered through the store to where Esme was seated in front of a large, raised dais, surrounded by mirrors.

"Hey, Mom." He leaned down to kiss her cheek, surreptitiously taking in her pale complexion for signs of fatigue. She appeared fine; her pink blouse put some color in her cheeks, and her eyes were sparkling and clear. She looked good—or at least as good as her condition allowed. "Where's Bella?" he asked. If she had said anything out of line….

Esme tilted her head to better receive his greeting even as she huffed in displeasure. "She's in the bathroom. What are you doing here, Edward? We're shopping for Bella's dress—this is the last place you should be!"

Edward studied her expression, seeing nothing more than motherly affection tinged with exasperation. Relieved that it appeared Bella was still maintaining the charade, he relaxed his stance and then raised his hands as if in defense. "I won't stay long, I promise. I just—"

His words abruptly cut off when he noticed Bella approaching, her worn jeans and t-shirt looking distinctly out of place among all the designer frills and lace of the bridal shop. Like his mother, she was pissed. The smile that touched his lips at the sight of her annoyed expression was, for once, unforced. Now that he knew Bella hadn't spilled the beans to his mother, he might as well have some fun while he was here. He deserved to get something out of this entire fiasco, and irritating the crap out of Bella would make his entire day. He edged past his mother, his hand gently squeezing hers as he passed to greet his reluctant fiancée.

"Edward," Bella bit out between clenched teeth, smiling stiffly as she accepted a kiss to her cheek, "what are you doing here?"

He smirked. "Mom just asked the same thing. Sorry, _darling_—" he couldn't resist the endearment, knowing how much she hated it "—but it's been over twelve hours since I last saw you. Dad said you were going dress shopping, and I couldn't stop myself. I had to see you."

His teeth caught the inside his cheek to hide his amusement as he heard his mother's wistful sigh. Between his mother's happy visage and Bella's thinly veiled annoyance, Edward's day was improving more and more all the time.

He watched as Bella's eyes closed for a moment, then opened as she valiantly wrestled control over her emotions. "Edward," she said, "could I talk to you over here for a moment… in private?"

His own eyes narrowed minutely at her saccharine tone, but then he shrugged. "Sure. Be right back, Mom."

Esme shook her head at him and shooed them away, her irritated expression belied by the indulgent gleam in her eyes. Edward placed a hand at the small of Bella's back, causing her steps to falter before she righted herself and led him to a small hallway lined with dressing rooms.

Once they were hidden from his mother's view, she twisted her back as she turned to face him, effectively knocking away his hand. Edward arched an eyebrow as she glared at him, flexing his hand before sliding it in his pocket, ignoring the way his fingers still tingled from touching her.

"What the hell is your problem?" Bella whispered hotly. "What are you doing here?"

His good mood disappeared in an instant, replaced by the numbing bitterness to which he had become accustomed. He stepped closer, crowding into Bella's personal space and causing her to back up against the wall. "Wrong question. The contract—which you signed, if you'll remember—clearly states that you are to clear with me any and all unaccompanied interactions with my mother. So the right question, _darling_, is what the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Oh, knock off all the legal mumbo jumbo," Bella replied, rolling her eyes. "Your mom wanted to go wedding dress shopping, so like it or not, here I am. That clause is ridiculous. I don't see how I can avoid being alone with her, not if you want her to believe any of this is real."

"The point is that you were to inform me first. You didn't, so here I am."

Bella threw her hands in the air in disgust. "You have got to be kidding me. You came all the way out here to check up on me? What do you think I'm going do—hurt her?"

His upper lip curled in derision. "I don't know, Bella. You have before. Why shouldn't I worry that you'll do it again?"

He watched dispassionately as the barb hit home. She flinched, and her face drained of color. They stared at each other, the anger and loathing between them nearly palpable. It was Bella who looked away first, but before Edward could relish his triumph, she pushed him away and moved away from the wall. Her head tilted to one side, and she lifted her chin in stubborn defiance—an expression of determination he'd seen her make many times before, although not recently.

"Stop it," she said, her voice strong and unwavering, her hands clutched into fists at her sides. "I won't put up with your snide comments and oh-so-subtle digs anymore. Yeah, I messed up—I know that! You don't have to keep reminding me."

"I beg to differ," Edward replied with a sneer. "You have no idea how much you—" He stopped speaking and took a deep breath in an effort to control his growing rage. Then he began again. "I don't care what you want or don't want. You signed the contract; you agreed to every stipulation. Like it or not, I'm in charge now, and you will do whatever I tell you to do."

Bella scoffed. "You think you have some sort of control over me because I signed that contract. Well, you're wrong."

"Oh, really?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's hear it, then."

"Look, I'm not stupid." She winced, then shook her head and continued. "You and I both know that contract is nothing more than a glorified prenup. I complete the contract, then we get the marriage annulled and you write me a check. Right?"

He shrugged, his gaze shuttered. Where was she going with this?

It was her turn to smirk, but her attitude was tempered by the tears that shimmered in her eyes. "Well, guess what, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer Man. I don't want your money. I'm doing this for one reason and one reason only—Esme." A tear slid down one cheek. "I made a mistake by cutting her out of my life, but I love her and I will do whatever it takes to make sure her last months—" her voice began to break "—are happy and fulfilled. But when it's all over, you _and_ your money can fuck off."

His head jerked in shock at both her words and the vehemence with which they were spoken, but then he pulled himself together and responded in kind. "If you think I'm going to believe anything that comes out of your lying mouth, you're kidding yourself."

A tense silence then filled the small hallway.

After several long moments, Bella sighed, then murmured, "I won't hurt her, Edward. I promise."

"Sorry, but your promises don't hold much water with me—not anymore." Edward's voice was just as quiet as Bella's, but even he was surprised by the bitter sadness that was evident in his tone.

Bella's brow furrowed, then she inched toward him. "Edward, I—"

He shook his head and interrupted whatever she was about to say, now deliberately indifferent. "My mother wants to shop for dresses—fine. Just know that if you hurt her, the financial ramifications of breaking the contract will be the least of your worries."

She seemed to freeze where she stood, her hand raised slightly, as if she'd intended to reach out to him. The stubborn tilt of her chin returned, and her hand fell back to her side. "Fine."

"Fine."

Edward turned on his heel, more than ready to leave, but then he paused and turned back to face Bella.

"One more thing," he said. Then he stepped forward, grabbed her head in his hands, and crushed her mouth beneath his. Bella gasped at the unexpected action, and he took advantage, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips as he kissed her for the first time in eight years.

He mentally tossed aside the familiar taste and feel of her, focusing on his intent. His hands fisted into her hair, gripping her tighter as he poured every bit of fury, resentment, and bitterness she'd caused by her betrayal into the kiss. It was brutal, punishing, almost violent in nature—nothing like the ones they'd shared previously. She trembled in his arms, and for a split second, he was appalled by the pulse of satisfaction that struck him, knowing that the ferocity of the moment had shaken her.

All that changed when he felt her hands grab hold of his biceps as she plastered her body against his. And then she was kissing him back, matching his fury with her own as she sucked and bit at his mouth. Desire swirled low in his belly, and he stifled a groan as he felt himself begin to harden. Bella must have felt his body's response, because she shifted against him, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his groin.

Then, slowly, the kiss began to change, turning less combative and more hungry, more desperate. Bella released his arms and threaded her fingers into his hair to massage his scalp, the slide and pull of her mouth now coaxing, pleading for a response.

Edward stiffened, his heart, body, and mind warring in contradiction. Rage, hatred, resentment… he could handle those things from her. But this gentle assault was killing him, forcing emotions he had long since buried to resurface.

His eyes stung with remembered pain, and it was that reminder that caused him to break away, wrenching his mouth from hers. Dear God, what had he done? She would know… and she couldn't. Not now, not ever. With more effort than he cared to admit, he stepped back, severing their connection completely.

Bella stared at him, her eyes wide and her breathing ragged as her fingers relaxed their grip and slid from his hair, down his arms until her hands hung limply at her sides. "Wh-what…?"

Having regained control in those few brief seconds, he knew what he had to do now. Edward's gaze never wavered as he deliberately raised his hand to wipe his mouth, as if the taste of her repulsed him. "Now Mom won't ask what was going on back here."

Bella's expression went from dazed to furious in a heartbeat. Her eyes were wet with angry tears, but she blinked them away.

He turned to leave, satisfied that his point had been made, but paused his steps when Bella spoke once again, not bothering to face her.

"I'd call you a son of a bitch, but Esme is the sweetest woman I know. I won't call you a bastard, either, since I know your parents were married when you were born. Guess that just leaves asshole."

A muscle near his eye twitched, and then he strolled out of the hallway to the main area of the shop.

The asshole needed to kiss his mother goodbye.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting in his car in front of the bridal shop, watching through the window as Bella and his mom laughed while they searched through a rack of dresses the saleswoman had brought out for their perusal. He'd meant to leave immediately, but something had kept him from starting the car.

Instead, his mind replayed his "conversation" with Bella inside the shop. In some perverse way, he was proud of her for sticking up for herself, for not letting him run roughshod over her. He'd been reminded of the old Bella—his Bella. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he remembered her quick comebacks, and his body still burned with the lingering effects of the kiss they'd shared. God, it had been so long since he'd felt anywhere near as alive as he felt when he was with her.

He glanced up, his breath catching as, through the window, he saw Esme hold up one of the dresses in front of Bella, looking for her opinion. Bella reached out to touch the fabric, and the ring on her finger caught the light, causing the diamond to sparkle brightly. The resulting tableau sent a wave of longing crashing over him, leaving him breathless in its wake. That was his ring on her finger—_his ring_—and for the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to wish that it was more than just an act, that they really were in love and preparing to spend the rest of their lives together….

As quickly as the thought came, Edward shut it down. Shoving the key in the ignition, he started the car and pulled away the curb, heading back toward home. As he drove, he berated himself for his momentary lapse of control.

Damn it. Bella had always had a way of drawing him in, and still did apparently, but he refused to allow himself to be vulnerable to her and her every whim again. He'd learned his lesson eight years ago, and learned it well. He couldn't afford to lose control. There was something more than just his heart at stake this time—Esme's happiness. It didn't matter what happened to him; in the end, when this was all over, every moment of struggle, of frustration, of heart-rending, gut-wrenching agony would be worth it.

And he would do well to remember that.

~o0o~

"I'm sorry, Esme. What?" Bella knew she needed to focus on her surroundings, but her mind was still replaying her strange conversation with Edward. Okay, if she were being entirely honest with herself, she was growing used to his erratic and unpredictable behavior. Her mind, however, was intent on replaying that stupid kiss. It had been the most passionate, yet painful kiss she could have imagined. When she had emerged from the hallway after having composed herself, Esme had studied her face closely, and instead of smiling widely as Bella had anticipated, her eyes had narrowed. Bella thought she'd seen a flash of motherly concern cross the fragile woman's features, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure.

"I wanted to know what you thought of this one," Esme repeated as she pointed to a white gown that the sales associate was holding for her.

"That's… erm… lovely," she stammered before she took a calming breath. "But I was thinking of something a bit… I don't know… plain? Less wedding gownish?" Bella swallowed hard and turned her gaze from the stunning dress in the attendant's hands and forced herself to look at Esme. They'd been at this task for quite some time already, and whereas she'd been able to fake a few laughs and plaster on a smile for Esme's benefit, the façade was slipping away.

"I do wish that your mother was here for this part."

Bella nodded. "Me, too." Renee had been nearly as ecstatic as Esme to hear about Edward and Bella's engagement. Bella knew that both women had shared a dream of their children marrying from the time they were infants. Charlie had been more cautious, but with a few well-placed phrases, Bella had been able to convince him that the wedding was what she wanted.

"What type of dress do you want?"

Bella shrugged. In truth, she didn't want a wedding dress. She wanted something as unweddingish as possible. Why couldn't they stand before the Justice of the Peace, say their vows, and be done with the matter? Or better yet, a trip to Vegas and only pretend to get married. Bella sighed, she needed to remember that this wasn't about her—it was about Esme.

Esme's eyes narrowed, studying Bella for a moment, before she glanced at the saleswoman. "We'll be back with you in a moment." Once the saleswoman had stepped away, she turned her attention back to Bella. She slowly walked over to where Bella was standing, then raised her hand to gently brush her finger across Bella's forehead. "I remember the very first time I saw you. You were two weeks old before I got a chance to visit. I had wanted to come see you sooner, but Edward had been getting in his molars, and he always got sick when he was teething."

Bella felt her face relax into a small smile at both Esme's gentle touch and the soothing tone she used every time she told a story about their past. It was comforting and reassuring, and it was one of Bella's favorite things about her pseudo-mother… and one of the things she knew she'd miss the most once Esme was gone.

"Charlie answered the door when we got there," Esme continued, "and he looked absolutely beside himself. The poor man was jumpy, fidgety, and nervous as all get out. Then I heard your wails coming from the other room. I carried Edward inside, but immediately set him down when I found your mother with puffy eyes and tears running down her cheeks while she begged and pleaded with you to stop crying. Your dad started pacing, and that just made the atmosphere in the room that much more tense."

Both women were smiling now as they pictured Charlie in an agitated state—the big, burly Chief of Police had been known to fret over the simplest things when it came to his beloved daughter. Bella had seen her father in such a mood many times over her lifetime; it was never amusing at the time, but there was a warmth that built up in her when she thought about how much her father obviously loved and cared for her.

"I immediately took over. I told your father to go into the station just to get out of the house for a while, and I sent your mother upstairs to take a shower and then a nap. Renee handed you right over to me before she disappeared up the stairs. I'd love to say that the minute she placed you in my arms you stopped crying, but no such luck. You were pretty inconsolable." Esme ran her fingers from Bella's brow along her temple, then tucked the hair behind her ears, and finally rest her hand on Bella's neck, absently rubbing her jaw with her thumb. "I tried bouncing you as I walked around the room and sang. I told you stories, patted your back, rubbed your tummy—really I wasn't having any more luck than your parents, and I was starting to get a bit worried. I'd seen how upset your mother looked when I'd told her to go shower, and I knew if you kept it up she'd never get any rest. Finally, I spread a blanket out on the floor and laid you down on it. My biggest concern through all of that, though, had been that Edward would start crying along with you. Instead, he stood next to the couch and watched the entire thing, completely entranced by you."

Dropping her hand from Bella's neck, Esme then gripped Bella's hand, squeezing it tightly in her reassuring grasp. "When I put you on the floor he immediately walked over. Of course that made me nervous—I had no idea what he was going to do. My fears were completely unfounded, however. He went right over, sat down next to you, and started to rub your head. I swear, the very second that he touched you, you quieted. Edward continued to run his hand over your head for several minutes, and then he leaned down and kissed your forehead before he said something that I would swear was the word pretty." Esme chuckled. "Well, maybe. He could've been trying to tell me that he was petting you like he would our cat, but I like my version of it better."

Bella giggled softly at Esme's words and admitted to herself that she liked Esme's interpretation better, too.

"Anyhow, I like to think that once you realized he was there, you were just as entranced by him as he was of you. After he kissed you, he stood up and went over to his bag and pulled out his blanket. He walked right back over to you and put it on you. Of course, it was covering your face and you started to fuss almost instantly, so I pulled it down. While I was doing that, Edward was back in the diaper bag, and he came back with two pacifiers. He put one in his mouth as he was toddling back and then promptly stuck the other one in your mouth. Then he curled up on the floor next to you, grabbed the corner of his blanket in one hand, and patted you with his other. You were both asleep in minutes, and you were nearly inseparable for the longest time. I will be the first person to admit that day was the very first time I found myself dreaming of this, Bella."

She gripped Bella's hand tighter and took a breath before looking her squarely in the eyes. "I don't know everything that happened between the two of you eight years ago, but make no mistake, my son has loved you from the moment he saw you." After a beat, she added softly, "And he _always_ will."

"Thank you," Bella whispered, wondering if Esme knew how much the story she'd just told had stirred her emotions.

Esme smiled a bit brighter, and when Bella grinned back, there was a slight sparkle in her green eyes that hadn't been there before that told Bella that everything was going to turn out okay in the end. "Now, let's find you a dress." With that, Esme promptly waved the sales associate back over to them, and they went back to their mission of finding a wedding dress.

Originally she had tried to argue that she neither needed nor wanted a wedding gown. It was only going to be a small ceremony and Bella had argued that she didn't want to fuss with all of the particulars. Esme, however, had insisted, and since this entire affair was for her benefit, Bella hadn't the heart to tell her. Now, searching through the throngs of white satin, taffeta, silk, and lace, Bella's stomach twisted in the most uncomfortable ways.

The entire experience just felt wrong. Both Esme and the sales associate, Jenny, had been showing her some of the most extravagant gowns in the shop. All of them beautiful, but none of them were something that Bella could envision herself wearing in her worst nightmare. She didn't want something that showcased her or the occasion; she wanted something that would make her feel as if she were fading into the background. But if that wasn't enough, Bella also knew that she didn't want to think too hard or to put too much thought into this decision. So, when Esme insisted that she start trying on dresses, Bella didn't argue; she simply did as she was told and tried to avoid looking in the many mirrors that surrounded her in the dressing room or the ones that were out where Esme was waiting to see how each one looked on her.

Put the dress on, ask Jenny to do up the back, step out and show her soon-to-be mother-in-law, do a slow turn so the dress could be viewed by Esme from all sides, go back into the dressing room, and remove the dress, only to step into the next one.

An endless cycle in which Bella repeated the steps to herself in her head so as not to think about how she looked, how the dress felt on her, how the fabric crinkled and brushed against her skin when she walked.

That all fell by the wayside when she heard Esme gasp as Bella stepped out of the dressing room wearing the eighth dress.

"Oh, Bella," she heard Esme say.

Her eyes snapped up to meet Esme's gaze. "What?" she asked.

"That dress is perfect."

And that was all it took. Bella couldn't help herself as she turned her head and caught her reflection in the mirrors. She couldn't hold back her own gasp as her eyes took in every detail.

It was _the_ dress.

Bella had been a typical girl, when she was younger and very much in love, she had dreamed of her future. She had envisioned the house that she and Edward would live in, the children they would have, their Christmases, their birthdays, their careers, school picnics, graduations, family vacations, anniversaries… she had pictured it all, including the wedding they had one day hoped to share with their families. And in those visions and daydreams, Bella had pictured a dress… her dress… this very dress.

She took in the way the hugged her curves, accentuated her breasts, and downplayed her hips. It wasn't princessy or showy. There were no poufy bustles or hoopskirts. The dress was simple white satin with just the perfect amount of lace and delicate beadwork to accent it.

It was simple.

It was beautiful.

It was elegant.

It was almost identical to an image she'd once clipped out of a bridal magazine during the first few months after Edward had left for college.

It was perfectly Bella.

It was perfectly Edward.

It was perfectly… _them_.

And for just a moment, she could revel in that, she could dream, she could want, and she could feel.

"What do you think, Bella?"

She hadn't even noticed that Esme had stood up, or that she was standing right beside her, looking in the mirror. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met in the reflected glass, and Bella knew that this was what Esme wanted for them. Esme saw the same things in the gown that Bella had seen, and in an effort to please them both, she fought down the nauseating guilt that had begun beating down her door the very moment that Bella had opened her eyes and looked into the mirror.

With everything that she had, Bella wanted to tell Esme that she didn't want the dress, that it was uncomfortable, or that she thought it made her look fat—something, anything just so she wouldn't have to walk out of the boutique with a sales slip verifying the purchase. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd lied about enough things over the years, and Bella simply couldn't bring herself to lie about anything else. If she was going to marry Edward, regardless of the reason, then she was going to do it right.

With a deep breath to steel her resolve, Bella turned her head to look at Esme and nodded. "You're right, it's perfect."

* * *

**A/N:** We sincerely apologize for the super long wait. Shug had to deal with some issues regarding one of her children and had to take a hiatus from fandom for a while. She's back now, though, and so updates should be more regular. Thank you so much for all the PMs and emails over the past several months. We're thrilled to know that, even with what little we had posted, the story had captured your attention. Thank you, thank you!


	4. Where Are We?

We've been planning this for quite some time now, and it's finally time to share our news about this story.

First of all, Shug and I would like to apologize for the ridiculously long wait, especially as this was a FGB story. Our most sincere apologies to curious88 for whose donation this story was intended. Real life, unfortunately, interfered with our plans.

Almost immediately after beginning this story, Shug's family life turned inside out. And mine wasn't far behind. I believe that in the last couple of years the most either of us has managed to write is a one-shot or two and those were all simply exercises to clear our heads so we could come back to this. But no matter how hard either of us has tried, this story has continued to elude us no matter what we do. We've tried writing together and separately. We've reworked the outline several times. We've tried speed-writing and setting word counts and… well, no matter what we do, we just can't get back into it.

We've both felt a great deal of guilt over this story. We want it to be finished as much as many of you do. We just can't do it. We really have tried—and tried and tried and tried again. The story just won't come back to us.

And if any of you know me, you know that I hate admitting defeat. I hate it with a passion. But in this case, I have to.

For that reason, Shug and I have made a very difficult decision. But we're not abandoning the story—we're giving it to someone else to finish. Our friend, LyricalKris, has volunteered to give this story the ending it so deserves. She'll be loosely following our outline for the story, but other than chapter one through three and two-thirds of chapter four, it will be her words and her story. We think you'll like what she's done with it.

Kris should have the story up under her name in just a bit. We'll have the link on our profile pages. Or you can look it up under LyricalKris's profile page. When she posts the first new chapter, Shug and I will pull our versions of the story, leaving the link to Kris's on our profile pages.

We can't apologize enough for this. We feel awful about how this all played out, but it couldn't be helped—our families come first, every time. We hope you understand.

We hope you like what Kris does with the story as much we do!

Curious88, if you're still reading. Send me an email or a PM and we'll work something out. Honestly, we feel awful. Thank you.


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